


Overthinking

by michimisha



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys Kissing, Comfort, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cutesy, Fate, Fate & Destiny, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Short & Sweet, Stupidity, Sweet, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michimisha/pseuds/michimisha
Summary: Atsumu is baby. Sakusa is sweet? Osamu and Bokuto are shitheads.Now kiss <3
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 108





	Overthinking

An unusual pairing, entwined by fate.

Sitting outside the lecture hall chatting lightheartedly in wait for a third, fourth, and fifth to arrive. 

Each is a tall, well-built man, one slightly taller- although the shorter of the two makes up for the lacking inches vertically with toned muscles.  The taller has pitch-black hair, pulled back into a bun which is  _ honestly  _ futile; there are curly strands popping out of the bun every which way.  The other has poorly bleached blond hair with an undercut untouched by the bleach- a natural brown shade. 

The two are in the midst of sharing a small snack from a nearby vending machine, which Sakusa so generously purchased for them after minimal whining on Miya’s part.

Sakusa was quite used to Miya’s games, and he found himself  _ not caring  _ when he played right into them.

Nowadays, he found himself doing it on purpose. The once-enemies were now fond of one another- slowly warming up to the prospect of  _ friendship _ , or  _ more _ …

Now their relationship might be just shy of heated. 

___________________________________________________________________

Osamu often bugged Atsumu about Sakusa. He called Omi his  _ boyfriend _ on a daily basis. Deep down, Atsumu wished the teasing words were reality. He  _ longed  _ to call Kiyoomi his, he was desperate for the black-haired man’s touch and dreamt of pressing kisses to soft pale skin. 

Not that he would ever be caught dead saying that to Osamu, or anyone really.

Especially Kiyoomi.

Sure, he was infatuated with his tall, strikingly gorgeous volleyball teammate. But there was infatuation and then there was  _ actually confronting  _ the object of his desire. The latter was insanely improbable, if not just literally impossible.

Atsumu would sooner live six lifetimes of celibacy than willingly confront Kiyoomi, of which their friends were quite aware. 

Perhaps that was why Osamu was wrestling Atsumu into his bedroom, Kiyoomi close behind being shoved in the room by none other than Bokuto Koutarou. 

The fucking traitors. 

This was  _ meant  _ to be a fun get together, and he was  _ supposed  _ to get wasted, not end up locked up in a room with the man he longed to hold close. 

Yeah, Atsumu didn’t just want to fuck around with Kiyoomi. He wanted the whole thing- which was  _ rare _ . Not even just rare, but unheard of for the blond. 

He wanted to romance the hell out of Kiyoomi, to take his breath away and make him  _ his _ . It was a weird concept, and being so close to Kiyoomi alone in a room could definitely not be good for his heart, right?

Taking a shaky breath, Atsumu glares at the door, “Ya fucking  _ suck  _ guys!” he yells, to which the only reply he gets is mischievous giggles from their friends. 

Kiyoomi awkwardly takes a seat on his bed and lets out a sigh. “Do you know what this is about, Miya?” he asks, bringing his knees to his chest and eyeing the blond with his charcoal gaze.

Atsumu swivels around, quite literally facing his fears.

Kiyoomi looked… nervous?

Was he upset? Atsumu knew that the dark-haired boy didn’t appreciate being touched- was he alright? Atsumu would  _ murder  _ Koutarou if the blockhead had hurt Sakusa.

Then the realization that Sakusa had asked a question hit him, and he found himself relying on autopilot to answer Kiyoomi.

“I dunno,” He lied through his teeth, glancing away fleetingly. He was such a coward. Why couldn’t he just get this over with? Telling Kiyoomi what he felt and what he wanted would be so much easier than trying to ignore it all if he was being honest with himself.

Kiyoomi haunted his every thought, and it was starting to be a problem. Especially during practice, when Atsumu would watch Kiyoomi spike volleyballs to the ground, wondering what Kiyoomi’s arms around his waist might feel like- his breath on his throat-

He swallows thickly, looking up at Kiyoomi who still has his eyes on him, a piercing black stare. “Actually that… that’s not true. They uh…” he lets out a nervous laugh and wanders over to sit on the end of the bed, looking at the pattern of the duvet on the bed. He wanted to get lost in the asymmetrical pattern, but he forced himself to look up slowly at Kiyoomi once more. 

Kiyoomi tilts his head to the side, and Atsumu inwardly curses at how cute it is, the pensive look on his face invitingly  _ Kiyoomi.  _

A sharp inhale, mental preparations for rejection, and then,

“Omi-  _ Kiyoomi, _ this… I’m serious about what I’m about to say alright..? I don’t… I’m not fucking around.” he starts hesitantly. When Kiyoomi’s full first name slips out, the taller male’s eyes seem to snap open wider, and he nods quickly, sitting up a bit.

“I understand,” he says softly, words as terse and brief as ever, motioning for Atsumu to go ahead. 

Atsumu takes another deep breath to compose himself. He mulls over what to say in his head for a minute of silence, and then scoots closer, offering Kiyoomi his hand. Kiyoomi raises a brow curiously but gives in and takes his hand.

It makes Atsumu’s heart jump to his throat. He squeezes Kiyoomi’s hand and stares at it for a moment, every part of him relishing in the touch he craved so dearly. 

“Omi I don’t know how to do this without fucking up what we have. We used to hate each other- er- I never really hated ya I guess. I was just… scared of ya.” he chuckles when Kiyoomi’s brows furrow in confusion, “which is stupid I know, but… how could I not be afraid when yer…. y-you?” 

He breathes out softly and shakes his head wordlessly. 

“Yer just... Intimidatingly perfect, Omi. I- I want nothing more than to get lost in your eyes, to play with your hair- but… more than just physically, I guess.” He pauses and frowns, almost ashamed of how he’s longing for this to go well.

“I want you in ways I’ve  _ never  _ wanted anyone else. I want to be there for you- when you’re in those moods after talking to your parents. I want to comfort you when you’re sad, I want to hold your hand like this when you feel lonely. I… I’d follow you anywhere, Kiyo, and all you’d have to do is ask.” he whispers out the last bit, a soft decrescendo from passionate to terrified.

It was out, the words he’d been dying to say had all tumbled forward and laid bare in front of Kiyoomi. What would he say? Would he be disgusted or sympathetic? Maybe he’d let Atsumu down easy- or maybe he’d brush him off coolly and monotonously say he didn’t feel the same. Atsumu was spiraling into a panic attack, scaring the shit out of himself.

What the blond didn’t expect was for Kiyoomi to squeeze his hand and to unfurl from his typical protective bubble of safety to gently pull Atsumu into a hug. An  _ actual hug.  _

Sakusa Kiyoomi, dubbed untouchable, had Atsumu tucked into his arms, up against his chest.

And that’s what broke Atsumu’s walls down, sending him careening over the edge as he choked back a sob.

Kiyoomi was quick to pull back a little, eyes wide. 

“Atsumu- what’s wrong?” A pause, while Kiyoomi stares at him in concern. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Atsumu doesn’t. “Fucking..  _ Atsumu, look at me please,”  _ Kiyoomi says again, incredibly soft. Atsumu blearily glanced up, meeting Kiyoomi’s worried eyes. A pale hand came up to brush through his hair, and then came back to rest on his cheek. 

“Atsumu, it’s okay. Just breathe. Slow down. You’re thinking too much,” He whispers, letting out a soft half-suppressed laugh, making Atsumu scoff. 

“Y-Yeah, I know. It’s… it’s not the end of the world that you don’t like me,” He laughs weakly. Kiyoomi makes a weird face and grumbles at Atsumu.

Then he’s leaning in, catching Atsumu’s lips with his own. 

For a short moment that feels like an eternity, Atsumu is lost. His eyes are wide, teary, and shocked. Kiyoomi rests his other hand on Atsumu’s waist, drawing small circles on his side through his shirt. 

Then he’s melting and leaning forward, arms looping around Kiyoomi’s neck to pull him closer. His breath has left him, but he could not care less. 

When they break apart, Atsumu is shaking, and the tears finally slip. 

“Atsumu…” Kiyoomi murmurs, brushing his thumb over Atsumu’s cheek. “Shh.. you’re okay. Stop crying, dimwit.” he smiles warmly, so warm that it makes Atsumu cry harder. Suddenly he’s wrapped up in strong arms again, holding him while permitting him a minute to just cry it out. 

“Atsu, hey.” 

The soft tone Kiyoomi uses strikes Atsumu like lightning, and yet it has a calming effect like no other. He leans on Sakusa but peeks up at him. Kiyoomi cups his cheek again. 

“You really care about me this much?” He asks, a small amused smile spreading across his face. Atsumu lightly punches him in the shoulder. 

“Ya don’t gotta be smug about it, Omi,” he smiles back though, and Kiyoomi takes that as the permission to lock lips with Atsumu once more, gently laying him back on the bed to hover above him, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips. 

Atsumu giggles when Kiyoomi kisses down to his neck and plays with his curly black hair. Sakusa lets out a hum and sits up after a minute, smiling fondly at Atsumu in a way he’s never seen Sakusa look at anyone. They sit in comfortable silence, just eyeing one another until the door finally unlocks, and  _ curse him,  _ Osamu pokes his head in, looking incredibly complacent at the sight before him. 

“Oh my bad,” Osamu snickered out, “I can lock you guys in for longer if ya’d like,” he snickers. 

In response Kiyoomi tosses a pillow at his head with incredible accuracy, smacking him in the face with a satisfying thump. 

He glances down at Atsumu again, and they’re silent for a moment longer before they’re bursting out laughing, Kiyoomi laying down beside Atsumu and protectively drawing him close. Atsumu didn’t fight it, pressing his nose to Kiyoomi’s neck and giggling. 

Osamu makes an indignant huff and rolls his eyes. “You’re made for each other, I swear. Took ya long enough,” He hums, and manages to duck out of the way this time from another launched pillow. “Okay! I’m going!” he retreats, leaving the pair to their devices. 

After what feels like forever in peaceful silence, Atsumu looks over at Kiyoomi. 

“.. We should probably go entertain them right?” 

A grimace follows. “I’d rather not, Atsumu, we could just live the rest of our lives in this room.”

Atsumu only chuckles at that and gets up, pulling Kiyoomi with him. “I wasn’t really askin’, Omi Omi,” Kiyoomi only frowned at him in response, getting tugged out of the room by post-mental-breakdown-Atsumu. 

Then their friends regarded them coolly and were quite rapidly swarming them with invasive questions. 

Of course, Atsumu being Atsumu decided the easiest way to answer it all was to tug Kiyoomi closer by the waist and press their lips together sweetly. It was an awkward and clumsy kiss, but Kiyoomi didn’t complain and melted into it regardless. The questions melted into gagging noises and laughing.    
In the moment after they kiss, they both shared a look that only they understood, and then shared another, much softer kiss that had their friends going quiet in an instant, shocked at the display of deep affection. It was nothing like the showy kiss from before. 

And then Atsumu and Kiyoomi were laughing, finally facing their teammates and friends. 

This just felt  _ right,  _ and the shared look of adoration and fondness stopped any doubts either had. 

A look that spoke words neither could formulate. That- if they had to word it- this was predetermined. Written in the stars.  _ Fate. _

They both knew this-  _ the love they felt _ \- was inevitable. It was only a matter of time before their paths intertwined more intimately. 

And who were they to deny fate, and her machinations? 


End file.
